


White Rabbit

by charleythechameleon



Series: White Rabbit [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Anyone who knows the x files knows, F/M, It's the slowest of slow burns, Multi, also there are more english characters in rogue one than americans, and just generally got out of hand, anyway..., cos i don't get americans, crime and alice in wonderland references, it's set in London and written by an English author so expect loads of english terminology, so it just made sense, that sort of morphed with a luther au?, the characters are the same age as their actors, this started as a x-files au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10106561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleythechameleon/pseuds/charleythechameleon
Summary: There's a serial killer terrorising the east end and leaving tiny toy rabbits in their wake. Detective Chief Inspector Jyn Erso knows she's the only one that can catch them, until she's partnered with morally ambiguous Scotland Yard supervisor Cassian Andor.ORThe British crime drama AU that no-one asked for.





	1. Intervention

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you spend all your time watching star wars and detective dramas.

Rachel Price drove her car out to the banks of the North Sea. It was pitch black, wind whistling through the nearby trees. Her breath fogged up the windscreen, but she did not dare turn up the heating. Any distraction would be lethal.

As the motor careered closer toward the river bank, her confidence faltered. There was nothing ahead but soupy black sea. This was supposed to be one of the most protected areas in London, but right now it was more morose than a graveyard. Rachel’s foot slipped off the pedal, and the car stopped. It was ghost-black, death-quiet, and yet, something glinted in the mirror.

Rachel squinted her eyes shut. Thick, snotty tears dribbled down her cheeks. Breath, and pray, maybe and then somehow the world would shift back into place. The seconds passed bitterly, and then, she heard something creak.

It was a reflex, really, giving into the temptation. Cracking open her eye just to check, whether it was real, or just her mother on the stairs. Her vision drowned in white.

A flimsy toy rabbit hung from the mirror. Black stitches clung to scrappy felt. Two x marks for eyes. A shadow haunted the backseat. Rachel Price hit the pedal and dove headfirst into the river.

\---

Jyn drove to work on her motorbike. It was definitely the least practical method of getting around, but she detested the tube, couldn’t afford the congestion charge and would rather be shot in the face than wear a high viz jacket. And besides, it was fun to scare the boris bikers.

To the casual observer, she was a complete stereotype. Tough as nails east London copper with a leather jacket and black eyeliner, sporting a hangover on a Monday morning. She parked her intimidating bike beside a lamppost and glared at the nearest pedestrian as she shook her hair from her helmet and headed inside the tattered old police station.

The glass doors nestled beneath the old brickwork of Victorian London. A blue lantern outside read ‘POLICE’ in block white letters, while the sigil of the met was embossed in metallic plates. Jyn nodded at the receptionist as she headed in.

Her office was at the back, in a closed off corner with the blind always down. Or at least, usually down. This morning, however, a crack of light slivered through. It revealed two figures intimately conversing. Jyn glared.

“What’s going on?” She asked Detective Sergeant Organa. Leia and Bodhi’s adjoining desks sat perfectly in-between Jyn and Superintendent Mothma’s allowing for maximum gossip sourcing.

Organa was small and nimble, with impossibly thick brown hair drawn into a messy side plait. She was only 17 months younger, but Jyn considered her a protégé. The first time Bodhi arrived, Leia squared him up and announced that her side of the desk was less penetrable than the Berlin wall. He trembled, and Jyn almost cried from pride.

Bodhi, thankfully, was the perfect partner for Leia. Just as quick-witted, but tolerant enough to deal with her tempers. He had cropped hair, a neatly trimmed beard and wore oversized trench coats over his wiry frame, as if he were trying to be Sherlock Holmes. The station officially adopted him after he fed bad intel to an old contact of Jyn’s at great personal cost.

“It’s related to white rabbit. She’s brought in someone from Scotland Yard to replace us.” Leia said.

“Oh, come on, you don’t know that.” Bodhi replied.

Jyn narrowed her eyes. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Mothma, she just didn’t always like her. She was a fussy, demure woman, whom insisted on following protocol at every opportunity, regardless on the effect on the case. Logistically, Jyn had to admire how she juggled the drama and demand, but personally, she found her ruthless diplomacy infuriating.

“She’s not replacing anyone while I’m here.” Jyn announced. Leia cheered as she marched up to her office.

When she shoved open her door, Mothma looked startled. She stood over the red crane file with the supposed Scotland Yard inspector. Honestly, Jyn had been expecting someone uglier. But this officer was objectively handsome, with warm brown eyes and dark hair that fell into his eyes at exactly the right angle. That just made things easier. Jyn had taken down pretty-boy wannabes before.

“Good morning.” Mothma said cordially. Jyn snorted.

“Oh, is it?” she asked.

“This is DCI Cassian Andor. He’s your new supervisor.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Andor said. He extended his hand. He was suavely composed, with the lean demeanour of a man whom had spent years perfecting his appearance. Jyn was absolutely disgusted.

“No, absolutely not.” She said shortly. Andor awkwardly retracted the hand.

“I’m afraid that’s not how this works, DCI Erso.” Mothma narrowed her eyes at Jyn.

“I don’t see why not.” Jyn replied petulantly. “He has no official jurisdiction here. If special ops wants to take over the white rabbit case they should just do it, no need to play mind games with us.” Mothma rolled her eyes. Andor, however, seemed suspicious.

“What makes you think it’s about white rabbit?” He asked.

“Oh, please don’t humour me. Three unsolved murders in the greater London region, all targeted at high ranking moral offenders, all without any evidence but a white rabbit toy left at the crime scene. The mystery’s so delicious I want to drizzle it in syrup.”

Andor drew his brows together and closed off his features. He seemed to be analysing her, and amassing conclusions that would certainly incriminate Jyn.

“DCI Andor will henceforth be codirecting this investigation.” Mothma said bluntly.

Jyn was so furious she began shaking. She felt her cheeks reddening dramatically as smoke poured out her ears. More maddening still, Andor seemed to enjoy it. His lips only quirked more as she veered closer toward scarlet.

“Get out!” Jyn screamed at him. Her throat was raw. Mothma was mortified. She heard Leia and Bodhi’s chairs screech as they turned to stare at her.

“DCI Erso,” Andor said slowly. He took a step toward her, crowding her space and dominating her small stature. “I think you’re forgetting, I’m your senior officer.” He was a hair’s breadth away, staring at her intently. Jyn resolved that is he stepped any closer, she would punch him in the face.

“I don’t care.” Jyn replied. “This is my office.”

Andor was silent for a moment, continuing to gaze at her intently. Jyn refused to drop her eyes, though she felt her ears flush. After a beat, he stepped toward her, almost pinning her against the wall. Jyn screwed up her fist. Instead, he turned the doorknob, and exited silently. Jyn allowed the pressure to cascade off her as Mothma went on the war path.

“That was reckless, irresponsible and quite frankly unprofessional behaviour. Your attitude reflects badly on this entire station, which is exactly what DCI Andor is investigating.”

“I know that.” Jyn snapped. Mothma scoffed.

“Then please explain to me why you’re acting like a child.” Jyn inhaled deeply and rested her head against the door.

“White rabbit is my case. I’m the only one that can catch them, you know that. And he knows that too. That’s why he’s here. It’s got nothing to with overseeing procedure, he just wants to take the credit. After everything you’ve fought for over the years, are you just going to let some pretty bureaucrat stealing your biggest case?” Mothma sighed.

“You’re right Jyn. I have fought for a lot. And I did that so that officers like you can have more opportunities than I did. Do you know how many Cassian Andors I’ve taken down?”

“How many?”

“More than I can count.”  Jyn chuckled. “You only have to deal with him until Scotland Yard gets bored or white rabbit gets taken out of the newspapers in favour of a killing spree in Bristol. Until then, remember that compliance doesn’t mean you can’t rebel.” Jyn peeled her head off the door.

“Ok. But no promises.” She grinned cheekily.

“I think you should let him back in.” Mothma said.

Jyn squinted through the slits in the blind. Leia and Bodhi whipped their heads back round to their paperwork while DCI Andor seemed to be reading the noticeboard with his arms sternly crossed.

“Do I have to?” Jyn whined. Mothma raised an eyebrow. “Fine.” Jyn conceded.

She pried open the door an inch. Leia and Bodhi jumped like startled cats. Andor calmly turned.

“I am willing to go over the white rabbit case file with you.” Jyn said through gritted teeth. To her horror, Andor smiled.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He said. Leia and Bodhi’s heads flitted between the conversation like they were watching a tennis match.

“Although, I still don’t understand what your interest is.” Jyn snapped.

“It doesn’t come from me. It comes from the commissioner’s office.”

“Why would he care about white rabbit?”

“It poses a direct threat to civilian security. A high-profile case would severely undermine the met.”

“And you don’t want to be fired.” Jyn replied.

“Precisely.” Andor smirked. Jyn retched inside.

“For the record, I voted against this government.” Jyn said, but Andor only seemed more amused.

“So did I.”

Jyn stood opposite him, transfixed in a glare. He continued to smirk. Neither blinked until Leia’s phone rang. Leia herself was startled, being entranced by the debate. She inclined toward her desk and picked up the receiver.

“Hello, DS Organa speaking.” She said, in polite, robotic monotone.

“Tell them to piss off, I don’t have the time to chase down robberies.” Jyn said.

“What really?” Leia said to the receiver. “You couldn’t have called at a better time. Ok. Thanks, Baze.” she put the phone down.

“You can’t just decide which cases are worth your time.” Andor sniped.

“Yes, I can.” Jyn snapped back.

“Well, it’s good things are changing around here.” Jyn’s nostrils flared.

“Guys.” Leia interrupted. “That was Constable Malbus. They’ve found something connected to white rabbit.”

“What?” Jyn and Cassian replied in unison.

“Something washed up in the river lea. Top secret apparently, Baze couldn’t say over the phone.”

“Sounds like a perfect first outing for our new operation.” Mothma said. Jyn turned to disagree with her, but Mon titled her head and batted her eyelashes at Jyn. In the ten years they had worked together, Jyn had come to realise that meant she was skating on thin ice.

“Fine.” She grumbled.


	2. River Bank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn and Cassian travel to the River Lea to find Rachel Price's abandoned car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is best appreciated alongside the Adele song, "River Lea".  
> In the general spirit of this fic, it's grown from 5 chapters to 8 and gotten generally out of hand.

Cassian outwardly refused to travel all the way to Hackney on Jyn’s motorbike. Begrudgingly, Jyn joined him on the tube. She knew full well that she had not updated her oyster card since 2012, but Cassian unhelpfully lent her a fiver. Before she knew it, she was clinging to a yellow loop suspended from the ceiling as the train jostled her back and forth. She bumped her head into Cassian’s chest four times.

Cassian was unfazed. He stoically reviewed the crime reports on his phone, constantly zooming in on the photographs of the rabbits.

“I don’t understand what all the Lewis Carrol references are about.” He whispered. Jyn cocked her head.

“We’re on the first stop to Wonderland, DCI Andor.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that we’ve got a nerdy serial killer. And I hate the ones that think they’re clever.”

“Why would that be?”

“Because, you will come to learn, DCI Andor, that nobody is smarter than me.” She smiled. He returned the gesture.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

*

Jyn and Cassian walked down to the bank of the river lea in terse silence. The wind whipped round their ears, and kids shouted profanities as they played football in the marshes. Cassian zipped his fluffy jacket and enclosed the hood around his reddening cheeks despite the mild weather. It was late January, and the sky was permanently grey, but it was hardly as freezing as Cassian seemed to think. Jyn was content with her jacket and scarf. She wondered whether she could get her case back if he died of pneumonia.

They trod up to the crime scene, and watched a yellow hook pulling a car out of the water. The sight was not uncommon; despite numerous environmental efforts the green-brown water had always been filled with the carcasses of shopping trolleys and deflated bin bags. Jyn simply wondered at the logistics of the operation. This section of the creek was barely more than twenty yards wide, and densely populated by cyclists and family hikes. The car had supposedly floated down from the Thames Estuary, against the current. How could the crime have no witnesses?

Forensics officers bagged in disposable white suits trailed round with cameras. They took polaroids of the tires and swabbed the engine for signs of tampering. Jyn suspected they had less than thirty minutes before journalists showed up to swarm the site like mosquitos with smartphones.

Constable Malbus waved Jyn over. She nodded and ducked beneath the blue and white tape. Cassian followed closed behind, grumbling as he waded through the thin layer of mud.

“What’ve you got for me Baze?” Jyn asked cheerily.

Malbus had worked in this area for over thirty years. There were some rumours that he helped bring down the Kray twins, and Jyn half-believed them. Baze was muscular and indomitable, but perpetually tired of tackling irresponsible and petty crime.

“Empty car, badly damaged exterior with signs of an internal struggle. In the boot, they found a photograph of Rachel Price, who was reported missing three days ago, a t-shirt splattered in her blood and a white rabbit hanging from the ceiling.”

“We thought you’d like it.” His partner, Sergeant Îmwe told Jyn. He grinned cheekily.

Malbus and Îmwe had been married for as long as Jyn could remember. They trained together, then formed a professional partnership, which their naïve co-workers believed to be purely platonic. Chirrut was opposite to Baze in every way, skinny while Baze was built, cheerful while Baze was moody, reckless while Baze was cautious. They were the best couple Jyn ever met.

“Well, I think it’s a bit soon to ask if my birthday’s come early.” Jyn replied sarcastically.

“Who’s your friend?” Chirrut asked, looking directly at Andor through his sightless eyes. Cassian stood behind Jyn, rubbing his gloved hands together to create friction, his face deathly pale.

“DCI Cassian Andor, from Scotland Yard. I’m Erso’s new supervisor.” He said, shaking hands with Baze, whom was not impressed.

“I see. Do you know how to find our friend with the bunny toys?”

“I have some theories.”

“He’s lying.” Chirrut said. He continued grinning, much to Cassian’s humiliation. Baze and Jyn chuckled under their breath.

“Right, let’s take a look at the car.” Jyn said, pulling a fresh pair of plastic gloves over her hands.

“You’re gonna need more than that.” Baze said.

“Oh, please don’t tell me.”

“Yes. Forensics are here.” Jyn looked crestfallen.

“We are here, and we shall be enforcing biohazard suits in order to prevent infection.” A mathematic, intensely irritating voice said. Jyn rolled her eyes. Dr Kay Tueso walked over in his white plastic suit, shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“Please god, kill me now.” Jyn mumbled. Tueso was Jyn’s sworn enemy. She’d put away child killers less infuriating than he was. On her first case as lead officer, Tueso attempted to have Jyn reprimanded for improper procedure after she picked up a spoon without gloves on.  

“Kay?” Andor asked, without the required level of disdain.

“Cassian!” Kay said, with an uncanny amount of emotion in his voice.

Andor moved in for a hug, but Kay held out a hand, stopping him.

“If you touch this suit, the reliability of my findings will be reduced by forty-two percent.”

“Of course, I would never.” Andor said, grinning like a child.

“I’m sorry.” Jyn interrupted. “But, I’m clearly missing something. How do you two know each other?”

“We worked together.” Andor said.

“At Scotland Yard.” Kay said. “Because some of us have an education.”

“Makes sense that two robots would be drawn to one another.” Jyn said. Baze snorted.

*

They dressed in the plastic forensic sheeting and masks, the suit clung to the fabric of Jyn’s jeans. Kay marched herself and Andor over to the car boot, and presented the contents as if it were buried treasure. Andor’s eyes met Jyn’s briefly, dark and unreadable. Jyn hesitantly leaned forward and inspected the contents.

The shirt was splattered with blood. The photograph displayed Rachel Price wearing said shirt and smiling, askew curls pulled up in a bun above her head. The infamous rabbit hung from a string stuck to the ceiling. Each line perfectly folded, yet there would, as usual, be no fingerprints.

“Have we checked the licence plate yet?” Andor asked. A grim expression played across his features. He refused to catch her eye.

“It’s fake.” Jyn replied. “At least, that’s what Baze said. But still untraceable.”

“I see. Have you gotten anywhere on the rabbits themselves?”

“They’re homemade, with your most basic materials. It could’ve been bought anywhere, and this is Hackney, so that narrows it down to about a thousand arts and crafts shops. And that’s excluding the hipster joints.”

“Fantastic.”

“Feeling out of your depth, officer?”

“Hardly. This is just getting interesting. So, what’s Rachel Price’s moral offence.”

“Isn’t it obvious? She’s a white upper middle class girl living in the greater London region. Drugs.” Cassian inclined his head.

“You just assume that based on her ethnic and socioeconomic status?”

“Don’t be so thick.” Jyn crouched down next to the car, and skimmed her glove along the bonnet. She held the golden syrupy substance up for Cassian’s inspection. “Liquid cocaine. Some of it must've dissolved but she’s probably built about five tons into the framework of the car. Bagged it probably, which is why the whole structure didn't fall apart."

“That’s nuts.”

“It still doesn’t make sense though. Why carry it across the North Sea? What are the Belgians going to do with a huge shipment of cocaine.” She shrugged, and interrupted her own thoughts. “Well, quite a lot, I imagine, but it’s still woefully impractical.”

“Because this car would have to go in the wrong direction to end up here. So, either the white rabbit circumnavigated the tide, or this is a plant.”

“Very good DCI Andor. You’ve finally said something useful.”

Just as she and Andor seemed to be coming to an understanding, Tueso marched over with a renewed posse of white suited robots.

“Out the way Erso.” He said. “Our preliminary findings suggest this car is almost five tons overweight.”

“So, you’re going to strip the structure to find the extra weight?” Jyn finished. Tueso’s eyes bulged out his head like a fish. “It’s cocaine by the way.” She shook her fingers at him.

“How could you have possibly,” Tueso began.

“What, with my inferior academic prowess? I think you’ll be alarmed to find, Kay, that you just can’t teach the natural art of sleuthing.” Jyn smirked. Tueso turned delectably purple.

“The drugs mean the white rabbit’s lowering its criteria on moral offenders. The last three were all acquitted murderers. Two children and one spouse.” Andor said.

“What’s your point?” Jyn asked.

“You said it yourself, Rachel Price maybe wantonly flaunting her privilege on drugs, but she’s not guilty of hurting anyone but herself. The white rabbit can’t be a proper vigilante if they don’t target public enemies.” He was right. Jyn’s mind was abuzz.

“You’re right. Remind me what we’ve got on her backstory?”

“Twenty-two year old Caucasian female, born and raised in Islington to parents Sarah and Peter Price. She’s a doctor, he’s a teacher, no criminal records. She was cautioned for possession of marijuana when she was sixteen but still managed to get into Leeds University where she is graduating this summer with a degree in architecture.”

“But apart from that she’s clean?”

“Yes.”

Jyn walked over to the river. She stared out at the brown and blue water, feet tapping incessantly. Something in the steady flow calmed her restless head, steering her toward a conclusion.

“Jyn?” Andor asked. His voice was distant, as if Jyn were listening to a whisper from the opposite bank.

“Jyn.” He repeated, his hand on her shoulder. It shook her stupor.  “Are you alright?”

“No.” Jyn said. She snapped her neck back to the crowd surrounding the car. They looked at her with different levels of expectation; from Baze’s exasperated intrigue to Kay’s grumpy insolence. It was only right for her to deliver.

“You see, the white rabbit’s good. They’re very good in fact. Almost at my level. Which makes me question who trained them on police procedure.” Jyn said. A quiet murmur erupted among the scene. Kay burst into uneasy laughter.

“That’s quiet an accusation to make. Why do you jump to that conclusion?” Andor asked. He seemed amused. It unnerved Jyn. She straightened her shoulders and marched up to him.

“Elaborate and diverse crimes, that take place on people either suspected or acquitted. They sunk a car near the Thames estuary then drove it against the current up to Hackney Marshes! You can’t do that without contacts. It’s too much of a coincidence for them to know us this well.”

“So how do you propose we find this phantom killer?” Kay replied sarcastically.

“Methodically.” Jyn sniped. Kay’s nostrils flared. “We should find a list of past employees of the station with a potentially violent past. Cross reference those with the met and try to build up profiles. I’m sure our contacts at Scotland Yard could help us out there.”

“I can make a few calls.” Andor said. “No promises though.”

“Thank you. It’s good to see that some people use their education.” Kay snorted. “Until then, we can chase the RFSOs.” Jyn said.

“What are RFSOs?” Andor asked.

“Relatives, friends, significant others. We want to find who sold her the drugs.”

“I’ve got a few suspects. There’s been a concentration of activity around Dalston.” Baze said.

“Thank you.” Jyn said.

“If this deal takes part near one of those shops that sell force crystal, I would not be opposed to joining you on this mission.” Chirrut said. Baze rolled his eyes, unable to hide his smile.

“So, do we interview the parents?” Andor asked.

“I’ll give them to Leia and Bodhi. Rumour has it I haven’t got the maternal touch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made so many notes on met police procedure and the river Thames that I've lost all purpose in life.  
> Hit me up on [tumblr](http://politicalprocrastinator.tumblr.com)


	3. Cold War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia and Bodhi enjoy a cup of tea and an interrogation with Rachel Price's parents, while Cassian questions Jyn's judgement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried to develop Leia's characterisation in this modern detective story by combining some of her story with Carrie Fisher's. However, I am not perfect, so please feel free to tell me if I messed some things up.  
> This chapter took me ages to upload because I'm a chronic underwriter who is terrible at building tension. Also, my education blew up in my face this week, so I've had no free time. I really appreciate everyone that reads and reviews, it keeps me inspired to keep writing.

Leia and Bodhi took the call from Jyn to chase up the parents and then hopped on the tube to Islington, gossiping all the way. They mutually agreed not to trust the new Scotland Yard delegation, regardless of their agreement that he was easy on the eyes. Leia incessantly tapped her foot on the carriage, her fingers tremoring against the balancing hook. Bodhi asked her if she was OK. Actually, he asked three times. Each time, Leia confirmed she was fine. On the third time, she sized him up and said that her only problem was standing right in front of her. Bodhi shut up after that.

Mr and Mrs Price lived on a street lined with marble. The trees were perfectly hemmed between skinny roads. London was disconcerting like that; around the corner was a council estate, while these houses were decorated with stone pineapples.

“They were a sign of wealth, back when these houses were built.” Bodhi explained. “A sign you could taste the culture of the colonies. The first British pineapple was presented to King Charles II. There’s a portrait of it in the royal collection. His servant is holding it like it’s Simba in the first scene of the lion king.”

“Fascinating.” Leia said, as they reached the gates.

She stood back on the pavement, the gravel crunching beneath her trainers. Her heartbeat raced past her ears as she took in the magnitude of the great white statuesque building.

“Leia?” Bodhi asked. “Are you sure you’re ok?” Leia kissed her teeth.

“Seventeen.”

“What?”

“Seventeen times somebody has asked me if I’m ok today. You don’t need to be so concerned. I’m not going to spontaneously combust every time we have a drugs case.” Bodhi sighed.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Leia nodded.

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? She can only afford her habit because she was raised in a castle. Class A drugs, the playthings of the rich and famous. You know Kennedy was on crystal meth? It’s absurd.” She chuckled.

“Leia.” Bodhi repeated. “You don’t have to be so self-deprecating so I know you’re ok.”

“It’s called a coping mechanism, Bodhi. If you don’t find things funny, then they’re just sad. And sadness helps no one.”

She swung open the shiny metal gate, walked up the tiled pathway and rapped on the lion-headed knocker. Bodhi stood beside her, tapping his feet on the welcome mat.

The door swung open, and a plump, worried woman answered. She had silver-laced auburn curls and big anxious eyes. Leia and Bodhi sharply inhaled in sync.

“How can I help you?” she asked primly. Leia reached into her pocket and presented her id. Bodhi did the same.

“Detective Sergeants Rook and Organa of the metropolitan police force.” Bodhi said. “We’re here regarding your daughter, Rachel.” Mrs Price clutched her chest.

“She’s dead isn’t she?”

“Shall we go inside?” Bodhi asked grimly.

“You can tell me first.”

“We don’t know, Mrs Price.” Leia replied. “But we would like to tell you what we do know.”

Mrs Price ushered them inside while her husband brewed them a pot of tea. He presented it to Leia and Bodhi with a plate of biscuits and matching, union jack-embellished mugs. They nodded politely, and dipped hob-nobs into their drinks accordingly. Mrs Price’s hand shook so violently that she dropped her mug. It smashed on the floor, staining the carpet brown.

“My goodness!” She exclaimed. “Oh, that is a pity. Arthur, can you please fetch the cloth and white spirit?” she held the remnants of the fractured mug in her hand, staring at the blot as if her gaze alone could erase it.

“Yes, of course, Marion.” Arthur Price said, although his actions too seemed to run like rusted clockwork. After a few more moments of staring at the invading stain, he stood.

“Do you want a hand?” Bodhi asked. Mr Price looked surprised by the question.

“No, it’s quite alright. Enjoy your tea.”

Leia grabbed Bodhi’s arm and sat him back down. He smiled at her earnestly and dipped another biscuit. Mr Price returned with the cloth and spirit, poured the solution onto the carpet them dabbed at it haphazardly.

“I think it’s gone Arthur.” Mrs Price said quietly.

Mr Price dropped the dirtied cloth onto the carpet and sighed.

“What happened to her?” He asked. Leia attempted a comforting smile.

“We’re not sure yet. We found her car sunk in the river lea. But we have slightly distressing news. I don’t want to alarm either of you, but were you aware of Rachel’s involvement in the local drugs trade?” she asked. Mrs Price’s face dropped.

“So, it’s true then?” She fiddled with her skirt. “I heard rumours. I’m part of these parents’ functions, you see, I’ve donated to her university and hosted functions. We have a facebook group chat. I think the whole thing’s rather tedious, but I want to make sure Rachel gets the best, you know? And growing up in this area if I didn’t participate then she was an outsider. Michelle Collins gossiped that there were kids circulating…illicit materials, but I thought she was just projecting. Everyone knew her son Billy was involved.”

“Oh, that’s a name for you.” Mr Price interjected. “William Collins. Even his parents aren’t wealthy enough to afford him that car.” Bodhi subtly removed a notebook from his jacket.

“Do you know of any contact between Rachel and this William Collins?” He asked.

“No, she didn’t like him.” Mrs Price said. “She hated all my friend’s kids. Always felt like the relationships were too forced or something, like I was trying to control her life.” She smiled, attempting to mask the welling of tears.

“We’ve all been there.” Leia said kindly. “Is there anyone else you can think of that might have supplied Rachel with such materials? I don’t want to upset you, but are you aware if she had a partner, or someone with a sexual motivation to commit this crime.”

“Jenny Thompson’s daughter Carla said she saw her running around with Ben Newham.” Mr Price said. He glowered. Bodhi scribbled down the name in caps.

“Who’s that?” Leia asked.

“Arthur,” Mrs Price pleaded.

“Nasty kid. Father was acquitted for counts of fraud, embezzlement and sexual abuse. He takes after him.” Mr Price said.

“Arthur, that’s not fair,”

“You know it’s true, Marion. She was always different after they started running around together. Acting out, missing our plans.”

“She hated you trying to control her life.”

“Well, she’s not here.” Mr Price almost shouted. Silence ripped through the room. Mrs Price placed the fragment of broken mug on the coffee table.

“We can answer any questions you need, officers.” She said, refusing to look her husband in the eye.

\---

Jyn and Cassian sat in her office, the photographs of the car stuck across every surface. Jyn paced about them, incessantly clicking her biro as Cassian sat upright in her chair, reviewing the file.

“It’s a stereotype, you know.” He said.

“What?” Jyn asked.

“The troubled detective and the maze of photos. Besides, it’s a waste of time and it makes a mess.” Jyn dropped her pen at his words.

“DCI Andor, are you familiar with the works of the late great David Bowie?” she asked.

“He’s a bit inescapable nowadays.” He grumbled.

“Nowadays?” Jyn scoffed. “Well, regardless of your prejudices, he remains a genius. Who if he hadn’t blessed us with his musical talent, would’ve made a bloody great detective.” Cassian raised an eyebrow. Jyn gestured to the pictures. “You see, song writing and crime solving are very similar art forms. If he couldn’t solve a puzzle, Bowie would just lay the pieces out before him, and connect the dots.”

“Some disciplines should not be mixed.” He said, and returned to the file. Jyn scowled at him until her mobile rang. Leia.

“We’ve got the low-down on the parents.” She said. Cassian inclined and closed the file.

“Put it on speaker.”

“No.” Jyn said, exiting the room.

She found a secluded corner and accepted the call, after checking twice to make sure that Andor hadn’t followed her.

“What you got for me, Leia?”

“Ben Newham. Troubled boyfriend. Attends the same uni. Dad’s an acquitted crook. Probably got lots of contacts.” Leia rattled.

“Great, I’ll run a background check.”

“I can’t talk for long, I’m hidden in the hallway. I think we should consider the parents as well, there’s definitely some unpleasant tension.”

“Noted.”

“Good.” Jyn heard Leia move the phone from the face, about to hang up.

“And Leia?” Jyn added quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Are you ok?” The words were soft; a kindness Jyn only reserved for her protégé and friend.

“I’m fine. I get that everyone’s worried that I’m a lit fuse, but it would be nice of someone trusted my judgement for once.”

“You’re right.” Jyn sighed. “I’m sorry. Get back here, I need someone else to kick Andor’s arse.” Leia laughed.

“It would be a privilege.” She hung up.

Jyn smiled and turned to see DCI Andor standing behind her. He carried the same sour glow as if he’s been smacked with a wet fish.

“Why are you following me?” she spat.

“Just trying to confirm that you’re not hiding crucial details from this investigation.” He said, his jaw tightening.

“Why would I do that?”

“Exactly my question.” Jyn crossed her arms and squared him up.

“Are you trying to make an accusation?” he took a retaliatory step forward.

“I just think it’s odd that you and DS Organa are so close.”

“Sometimes this job can be overrun with testosterone. I think it’s good to know your allies.”

“Even at the expense of your professional career?”

“Excuse me?” Jyn’s voice raised an octave.

“It was extremely unprofessional to send a former drug addict in to question a narcotics related case. Her father’s history make her a volatile contact in the first place. She should be taken as far away from white rabbit as possible, not shoved in the middle.”

Jyn stepped back. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her face as she assessed the wound he gave her. She tried to level her breath, and ignore the sinking feeling in her gut. Of course, he would think like this. Of course, no matter the strides, her career would always be reduced to this.

“I think that given your history, placing Organa at the centre is providing ample opportunity to incriminate you. And neither of us want that.” He whispered the last words with a sly smile.

Jyn fumed. She felt her cheeks dye scarlet as her veins overheated. She stepped forward, inclining her face towards his, until their lips were a whisker apart, and grinned.

“You’re right. I was dangerous. You would quiver at the mere thought of my crimes.”  She whispered. Andor swallowed, eyes nervously flitting over her features. “Leia and I were the same; spoilt, rich white girl squandering their privilege on the criminal underworld. But that story ended there. You see, we reformed, and we transformed this dismal place into the beating heart of the east end. And do you know how, my esteemed colleague, DCI Andor?” Andor inhaled sharply, eyes tracing up from her lips.

“I assume you’re going to tell me.”

“By ignoring every ignorant sod that told us we couldn’t.” she stood on her tiptoes and rotated her face to meet his ear. “Especially pathetic lapdogs from Scotland yard.”

She dropped back to balls of her feet and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this scene is the most scandalous thing I've ever written, but I think Jyn and Cassian's chemistry just brings out that side in me. I also should have been more clear in my summary that this is an ensemble piece, in which the backstories and motivation of all of the characters will be explored, not just the overlying rebelcaptain.  
> Say hi on tumblr


	4. Détente

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After exercising some tactical diplomacy, Jyn and Cassian track down Rachel Price's boyfriend in the hope of finding a connection to the white rabbit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently buried in textbooks and living in a constant state of panic. Thus, this fic had been coming on one sentence at a time.

Jyn was halfway through her grizzly pack of pot noodles when a cream file slapped her desk. She dropped her fork and looked up at Cassian, whom smiled timidly.

“I looked up our man Ben Newham’s record. He’s crooked. Definite links to the Dalston drugs trade. And he swindles his taxes. His father was named in the panama papers.” He announced. Jyn silently grabbed the file and rifled through his investigations. They were appallingly thorough, with the detail she hadn’t seen since the examples given in training. She nodded cordially.

“And that’s not all,” Cassian added. “He’s no lone wolf. I think his supply link is funded by Jabba the Hutt.” Jyn dropped the file onto her desk.

“No way.”

Jabba the Hutt was the slimiest crime lord Jyn had ever encountered. Literally. His drooping jowls were caked in sweat, saliva and particles of whatever drug currently took his fancy. With a wardrobe consisting of monopoly man suits, spats and cigars, Jyn suspected he aimed to be the Al Capone of the east end. However, Jyn knew that when the time was right she would drag him down for much more than tax evasion.

“There’s a middle man, though.” Cassian said. “This kid isn’t far up enough the ranks to access Jabba’s stock directly. I suggest we go in and source his contact. I wouldn’t be surprised if the white rabbit just aims to take out Jabba’s competition.” Jyn quirked an eyebrow. “And it’s not because of how I judge Leia’s professionalism. You’re right, white rabbit is your case and you should be putting in the work.” Jyn nodded.

“Is that _all_ you want to say?” she asked. Cassian sighed and dragged a chair up to the desk. He sat down solemnly.

“I also wanted to apologise. I acted harshly. I shouldn’t have questioned your judgement. After all, if the met were as shallow as I was, I would never have gotten this job.” Jyn ached to prod him for further information, but instead she reclined her seat and caught his gaze.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have tried to keep the information she found from you.” Cassian chuckled.

“Is this the beginning of a peace treaty, DCI Erso?”

“I am willing to negotiate a détente, provided you don’t go nuclear.” Cassian’s smile widened. He held out his hand.

“Deal.” Jyn rolled her eyes, but accepted the gesture nonetheless. She tried to ignore the sparks that tickled her spine as they shook. From the way Cassian sheepishly avoided her eyeline, she worried he felt the same.

\---

The outside of Ben Newham’s flat was dank and grizzly. Jyn got a swab of black gum stuck to the undersole of her boot. Bin bags were burst open over the pavement, spewing heaps of infected needles, used condoms and deflated footballs. It was on a closed off street in Shoreditch, sharing the back alley of a loud nightclub that blared auto-tuned techno-pop at five thirty in the afternoon. While Jyn and Cassian stood at the bus stop, the heavens ripped open and drowned the pavements in gritty rain.

“I’ve spent five quid today on travel, all because you’re afraid of traffic.” Jyn said.

“I’m not afraid of the traffic; instinctually I think your bike is a health hazard.”

Jyn kicked a crumpled beer can into a nearby drain. Raindrops swirled about their faces, the plastic roofing of the of the bus stop about as effective as paper flood barrier. Cassian’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of scarlet with every passing breeze. Jyn studied him quietly. Everything seemed oxymoronic; expensive jeans with a parka he probably bought in Asda, new shoes with old laces, a harsh frown and sad eyes. She smiled at the frivolous thought, absentmindedly alerting him to her examination. He quirked his lips as a response. These moments were becoming a pattern; silent companionship amidst a storm.  

“Can I ask?” he asked, clearly flattening the words on his tongue.

“Go on.” Jyn said quietly.

“You father, your record … I just don’t understand why, you’re smarter than that.” Jyn attributed her blush to the rain. Maybe she was wrong about DCI Andor. Her previous colleagues would not dare allow her any form of self-esteem; it was as if they believed that insults would force her into compliance. Jyn could live with this.

“I want to say it’s complicated, but I’d be lying.” She chuckled. “My father ran off with his boss. Krennic said they were working on an important project, and my mum said he didn’t really want to go, but he never came back to explain himself, you know? Then it was just mum and I, on the run from something or other, the government probably. Her friends are a bit … extreme. I got my first conviction aged sixteen, and served out my last sentence by twenty. Joined a _rehabilitation programme_. They don’t work for ninety-nine percent of people. Guess I was the one percent.”

Cassian seemed to listen intently, nodding intermittently and staring at her intensely, as if on the lookout for a sudden breakdown. Jyn recognised the signs.

“So, what about you, Detective Chief Inspector Andor?” she propositioned. “I laid my cards on the table, I expect some reciprocation.”

“Nothing so dramatic.” He shuffled his feet. “I worked for the federales in Mexico for a few years, then I went to Spain and spent time with the CNP while practicing English. I immigrated in 2009, and got promoted to Scotland Yard in 2015.” Jyn tried to ignore the perfect manner that he delivered his speech. The words were probably so plastic because he had doled them out so many times. But there was something in how they seemed so rehearsed that made her suspect he was lying.

The rain softened into quiet spatters on the rooftop and the sun peaked its blue head. Jyn shook the waterdrops from her head.

“Shall we find ourselves a drug dealer, then?” she asked.

“Definitely.”

They briskly walked down to the grotty set of post-war flats at the end of the street. Jyn attributed the splashback of rain against the curb for the close-knit way they walked in unison. Cassian seemed to crowd her, in a pleasant, almost companionable way. The same kind silence swept between them, seeming ancient and unbreakable. Could you feel this connection with someone you had known less than a day? Logic warned Jyn against developing these irrational attachments, yet the blossoming of potential curdled in her stomach.

She snapped out of it once Cassian rang the doorbell.

“I don’t want to give into stereotypes, but surely this guy could better accommodation than this.” He said.

“Better than a flat that screams drugs dealer?”

“Well, ideally.”

The flat remained silent. Cassian rang the doorbell again. The lights were on.

“He may have just forgotten.” Cassian said, slightly too loudly.

Jyn eyed the shutters drawn across the windows.

“Yeah, I leave the lights on all the time.” She replied, at the same volume. “To deter burglars.”

As the seconds prolonged, her heart sped up in a wonderful, stressful way. Five, four, three, two,

The shutters clinked. A footstep creaked. Cassian pointed to the back door and Jyn followed.

They skirted round the balcony, spotting rickety metal ladder angled toward the bins. It rattled loudly as a black-jacketed figure clamoured down. Cassian elbowed Jyn.

“Go down the stairs, cut him off round the back, I’ll pursue directly.” He whispered.

“Copy that.” Jyn replied.

She sprinted off down the stairs. God, it had been too long since she had run. Air pulsed through her nostrils and energised her limbs. She barely registered the overwhelming stink of the rotting staircase as her feet pelted toward the door.

The back alley was crowded with tall bins. Jyn cursed her height and spun around frantically. She could feel it, every second her heart ricocheted in her ears was a second the first proper rabbit lead spent getting away. The grey tower blocks seemed to mock her with their looming austerity as the streets blended together.

“JYN!” she heard Cassian cry.

She flung her head round to see Ben Newham bounding toward her, hood pulled over his face, knife held in his right hand.

The blade was a whisker away from her gut when she calmly grabbed his wrist and pinned it behind his back. A firm shove and he fell to his knees as the knife clattered to the floor. Cassian caught it under his shoe.

“Nicely done.” He said.

“Thank you.” Jyn replied.

She picked her handcuffs out of her pocket and secured them across his wrists.

“Ben Newham, I’m arresting you for attempted assault of a police officer. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was surprisingly softer and more dramatic than I intended. I blame Kate Miller-Heidke's new song. Also I know nothing about disarmament technique or British legal procedure so this is probably wildly inaccurate.  
> Check out my [tumblr](http://politicalprocrastinator.tumblr.com/)


	5. Battle Stations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team makes a breakthrough, while Cassian questions Jyn's motives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this a good friday present for all those who celebrate ironically named holidays. In other news I have actually been sticking to revision so well (I followed my timetable for 10 days straight?!) this fic seemed almost abandoned. But never fear, Rogue One finally came out on digital HD in the UK so I found the will to update.

When they returned to the station, Jyn found herself stood on Leia’s desk, attempting to quiet the rabble. Baze and Chirrut, whom had helped them transport the prisoner, invited themselves back into the office. Chirrut enthusiastically told of the investigation’s breaking point, while Baze complained about the building’s mediocre security. More frustratingly, Cassian had texted Kay on their way back to commend himself on the arrest. Desperate for a DNA sample, Kay had been leaning against the front door with a tray of forensic equipment them they returned. Leia, whom wanted more credit for finding the name in the first place, clashed with Bodhi who insisted his interview technique was superior. Mon was sat at Bodhi’s next, silently observing Jyn’s diplomacy attempts. Her wife, Superintendent Palmo joined her, because she was concerned that the rabbit might strike Mile End next.

“We need a battle plan.” Jyn announced.

“We need extra security.” Baze muttered.

“Yes, but we can only detain him for forty-two hours without charge.” Jyn said. “So, we need to attack.” She turned to Cassian. He stood next to Kay, staring up at her with a hint of admiration in his eyes. “We need the most detailed background check you can master, date of birth, parents’ locations, any possible uncle or step cousin twice-removed that would have access to the met.”

“Yes ma’am.” He said curtly. Kay rolled his eyes.

“And as for you,” Jyn told him, “You can get fingerprints and DNA samples, cross check all white rabbits or even possible cold cases for a connection.”

“Have you any idea the probability-”

“Just do it, Kay.” Cassian interjected.

“I don’t see why I have to take instructions from here.” Kay mumbled. “She’s technically your subordinate, you know.”

“Baze, Chirrut,” The pair looked unhappy. “I need you to stay on standby while I wrangle him for information. Oversee the interview with Mothma and Palmo, and the second he slips the name of his dealer, storm the premises.” She awkwardly looked over to Mon, whom raised a single eyebrow. “As long as that’s OK?”

“I admire your energy Jyn, but it would be nice if you could remember who is in charge, if ceremonially.” She said.

“And are the two of you up for it?” Jyn asked Baze and Chirrut.

“I’m more than happy to assist.” Chirrut beamed. “Even if it means dragging this old man everywhere.” Baze sighed.

“I was much younger before I met you.” His smile crept through.

“How come they’re asked for consent, while she just enforces the rule of law on me?” Kay asked.

“Quiet.” Cassian hissed.

“And Leia, Bodhi,” Jyn said. “I need you to consolidate everything you found out about the parents with Cassian. We’ve got no idea how big this operation is, I wouldn’t be surprised if mum and dad are involved.” They nodded. “Good.”

She jumped off the table and picked up Cassian’s case file.

“Newham’s not going to know what hit him.”

\---

Jyn walked into the interview room, stone faced and ready. Her notes were compiled, her posture austere. The room itself was concrete and cupboard sized, with bars striped across the windows. Newham sat at the small plastic table in the centre, head between his hands.

“Good afternoon.” Jyn said.

“Afternoon.” Newham mumbled. He shook vigorously, knuckles constantly tapping against the table.

Jyn pulled out the seat opposite and laid out her file.

“Do you know why you are being questioned?” she asked. Newham continued to fidget, refusing to make eye contact.

“No.” he mumbled.

“Ok, second question. What do you know about your girlfriend, Rachel Price?”

“Nothing.” He replied, more forcefully. His knuckles rapped the table so heavily Jyn felt the metal tremble.

“Well, I guess I’ll just pack up and go home then.” Jyn replied. She gaged his response.

“Sounds like a good idea.”

\---

Cassian swung open the door of the observation room. Mothma and Palmo sat before the surveillance monitors, brows drawn as they studied the conversation.

“I found some points of interest that could help the interview.” He said, waving the new file at them. “Mind if I join you?”

Palmo looked uncertain, but Mothma nodded politely.

“Of course, DCI Andor. Please, take a seat.”

Cassian chose a rickety metal frame and pulled the ancient headphones over his head. He watched Jyn Erso attempt friendship with Newham, to no response. _Foolish_ , he thought. _She was attacked less than an hour ago, there’s no way he’ll respond to her questioning_. Facial expressions gave Jyn’s insecurities away. Her eyes widened when she sensed failure. It was a sign of vulnerability, and unprofessional, yet Cassian found himself wishing he could comfort her. After all, it was obvious all her boisterous talk was just projection, and he could hear Kay in the back of his head saying that Jyn Erso needed the exact opposite of confidence. But nonetheless he felt a kinship as he watched her pixelated face on the screen.

“If you can’t tell me about Rachel, perhaps you can inform me of your connection to Jabba the Hutt.” Jyn asked. Cassian noticed that Newham flinched. By the way Jyn crossed her arms he realised she could see it too.

“I’m sorry I attacked you.” Newham mumbled. Cassian leaned into the picture, watching as Jyn did he same. “But it’s the way he operates. No warning just shows up to take you out.” He raised his brow and looked at Jyn for the first time. “And he uses girls, mainly. To do his dirty work. that’s why he wanted Rachel. People think they’re harmless. _They’re obviously wrong about that_.” He quickly clarified.

Cassian saw Jyn lean back and smile. _Always showing too much emotion_ , he chastised internally. All his training warned him against scenarios like this. But Mothma was smiling from ear to ear.

“She’s doing rather well, don’t you think?” she asked him. Cassian nodded.

“It’s very impressive.” He said sombrely.

“Listen,” Jyn said. “I won’t press charges for the attack. As for the, _recreational_ drugs use, we can discuss that later. I need to know about your circle. I have good intelligence that says Jabba the Hutt might be involved in this scheme. Would you know anything about that?”

Cassian glared at how Newham fidgeted. _It could not be this easy_ , he reasoned, _if it was, it was not worth his time_. Jyn perplexed him most of all, her ease at which she seemed to orchestrate events was intensely worrying.

“I never met him myself.” Newham said. “But I can give you names.”

\---

Jyn waltzed up to Leia’s desk.

“Han Solo.” She said simply.

Leia closed the research she had been collecting on the Prices. She was unaware that two people could be that boring.

“Who?” Leia asked.

“He’s a contact of Hutt’s. Newham said he’s the smuggler that sold Rachel the drugs.” Jyn explained. “I need you to track him down and bring him in.”

“I assume DCI Andor isn’t here because he doesn’t think I’m up to the job.” Leia replied.

“He’s giving Bodhi a similar detail.” Jyn said. “Don’t waste your energy being angry, I’m handling it.”

\---

“Do you know a Luke Skywalker?” Cassian asked Bodhi.

“Sounds vaguely familiar.” Bodhi said. It occurred to him that the new detective seemed slightly on edge as he handed him a photo.

“Jyn said she had heard the name before. Do you recognise him?”

Bodhi studied the image. He must have been about Leia’s age, wavy blonde hair, blue eyes. It was vaguely familiar, but Bodhi was sure he had never met him.

“I don’t think so.”

“Good. I need you to track him down. According to Newham he’s a middleman in Jabba the Hutt’s hierarchy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holidays are stressful, aren't they? Who can reasonably survive them without Star Wars?  
> Follow me on [tumblr](http://politicalprocrastinator.tumblr.com/) if you appreciate a terrible sense of humour.


	6. Allies and Adversaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bodhi travels back to the river lea to question Luke Skywalker, and gets sidetracked. Leia is not happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing slower every day because of exams. I wrote about two sentences of this a day, so yikes. Also every time I revise my outline it gets longer?  
> But it's May the fourth, so I had to update.

Bodhi stalked the banks of the Lea with his head bowed. After finding Rachel Price’s car, he didn’t trust the tip that said Luke Skywalker lived in his uncle’s boat. The name _Tatooine_ sounded all the more ridiculous; Bodhi severely doubted that Owen and Beru Lars were real names either. Plus, his boots had hardly recovered from trekking down the bank last time.

The boat in question was a sandy yellow. A painted sign in the window advertised ‘blue milk’ which Bodhi suspected was not created from legally obtained substances. There was a white and blue pedal bin apparently guarding the door. Bodhi kneeled down, right next to where the boat was tethered to the bank, and tried to see through the stained glass windows. The bin moved.

“Jesus!” Bodhi exclaimed.

The shock was enough to propel him forward, landing face first in the dank water. He scrambled violently. The thick, gooey water invaded his senses. At one point, he inhaled a crisp packet and choked.

“Hey, is anyone out there?” a voice called out. Male, American, probably one of the boat’s inhabitants.

“Oh my god.” The same voice said when he recognised Bodhi thrashing in the water.

Hands reached into the grizzly stream and pulled Bodhi out by his underarms. Bodhi collapsed atop him on the boats deck, desperately squirming to rid himself of a used condom that stuck to his lapels.

“Bloody hell!” he coughed.

“Wow, that was crazy.” His rescuer said. “I don’t think I’ve seen someone accidentally fall into the Lea since I tried to chase a swan in '93. I bet you could use a coffee.”

Bodhi leaned down on the deck, exhausted, and struggled to get his bearings. Skywalker had saved him. The young man in question matched the photograph, but his cheeks were sallower, his tan almost faded.

“Yes, thank you, that would be lovely.” Bodhi said. “But, tea, not coffee, I’ve been told I have, a, uh, nervous disposition, so best to avoid caffeine.” The words rambled off his lips before his brain reminded him to think.

“No worries, how do you take it?”

“Brewed for about ten minutes, no sugar?” Bodhi asked. His head had hit the deck by now, and he showed no signs of moving.

“I’ve only got vats of blue milk, is that OK?”

“What is that stuff?”

“My aunt and uncle make vegan dairy products. We sell them to coffee shops for a modest sum so they can claim to support ‘local independent businesses’.” Bodhi nodded. One question down.

He pushed himself up by the elbows and shook out his coat. The inside of the boat was as sparsely decorated as the outside, only with a slightly darker shade of yellow. A mass of milk producing contraptions lay dotted about. The elaborate machines seemed like something out of Roald Dahl, with strong metal pumps supported by wiring made of string. Spread across the sofa were old maps of the Thames and various discarded spanners. The striped bin reared its lid toward Bodhi. It was ridiculous, but Bodhi was sure the object glared at him.

“Here we go.” Luke handed him a jam jar shaped mug, filled with rich brown liquid that fogged the rim.

“Thank you.” Bodhi replied.

He sipped the drink and burnt his tongue.

“Oh, I’m a police officer by the way.” He remembered. “Bethnal Green met. I came to ask you a few questions.” Luke's eyes widened.

“Well, I gotta hand it to ya officer, falling in the river was a great cover. I had no idea.”

“Yes, well,” Bodhi chuckled nervously. “I actually came here to ask you about your history with Jabba the Hutt.” Luke put down his coffee.

“It’s not what you think.” Bodhi sighed.

“You couldn’t come up with an original line?”

“I needed Han Solo’s help because I was following a tip. Do you know Ben Kenobi?”

“The name rings a bell.”

“Well, he offered me a tip about my father. He’s been kinda, underground, for a while. And I never knew him. It was just curiosity I guess.”

“And Solo tied you to Hutt?”

“I just needed his plane. He’s got this great classic jet, and I couldn’t fly commercial. My dad’s holed up somewhere off the grid. I didn’t do anything illegal, I checked. The millennium falcon’s registered and everything.” Bodhi removed a small notepad from his coat lining and scribbled down the name.

“Does the name Rachel Price mean anything to you?”

“No.” Luke snapped. The response was too quick.

“I see.” Bodhi scribbled in his notepad.

“I’m not in any sort of trouble, am I?”

“That depends on what we find later.” Luke nodded and tapped his thumb against his mug.

“Since I’m innocent until proven, exactly how unprofessional would it be if I offered you another _drink_? Off the record, of course.”

“ _Off the record_ ,” Bodhi mimicked. “Extremely.” He winked, then hastily worried if he should retract it. But Like grinned in return.

“Nine thirty, at Blondies?”

“I won’t be there.”

\---

Bodhi whistled his way into the station the next morning. As a detective, he was ashamed of how cliched his behaviour was; but inside he was proud.

“Stop it.” Leia instructed. “You don’t get to be happy while I’m this miserable.”

Bodhi grinned at her messily pinned hair. There were dark circles under her eyes. Bodhi himself was of course shattered, but in the best possible way.

“Made any progress?” he asked. Leia groaned.

“He’s stuck in the interrogation room and he won’t shut up!”

“Well done.”

“And he insisted on bringing his dog. It knows something, I can tell.”

“His dog?”

“Yes. Chirrut’s watching it. Do you know he calls it chewie? And it’s probably got fleas, scruffy thing.” Bodhi just smiled at her complaints.

“Do you think I could get away with slipping something class a and into his drink?” Leia asked.

“No.” Bodhi said. “But I do think you could improve your interrogation technique.”

“Well, from the look of you, your source was easy.”

“Oh, incredibly _easy_ , but he didn’t give me anything useful.” He grinned. Leia’s jaw dropped open.

“Get you being all unprofessional. Did he tell you anything useful?”

“Said he was looking for his father. Apparently Hutt is connected to him.” Leia’s eyes narrowed. Her brows drew so tight that Bodhi feared for his life as she grabbed his hand across the desk and dug her nails in.

“What did he say about his father?” Bodhi gulped. A second ago, he was on top of the world. Now, he feared she would crush his bones.

“Anakin Skywalker that’s what he said the name was.” Leia dropped his hand and cradled her head.

“Please don’t tell me you spoke to Luke Skywalker.” She murmured. Bodhi feared she would start crying.

“Cassian assigned me him. It was one of the contacts we got off Newham.” He whispered.

Leia smashed her fist against the desk. Bodhi jumped.

“Oh, they’ve really done it now.” She said.

Leia raised her head from her hands and cracked her neck. Her eyes were red. She sniffled and adjusted her braid.

“Stay there.” She commanded as she stood up from her desk and marched toward Cassian’s office.

The floor seemed to shake as she walked. Or, at least it did from Bodhi’s perspective. He trembled as Leia marched over to the green door and punched at the wood.

Cassian wandered out, landline pressed to his ear. The ever-present line between his brows deepened.

“Someone better be dying.” He muttered.

“Luke Skywalker is involved with Jabba the Hutt?!” Leia said. Cassian paused.

“I’ll call you back.” He said.

Bodhi could see Leia’s back quivering as she confronted him. Cassian returned the phone to the receiver and sighed, folding his elbows across his chest.

“I was Jyn’s idea. We thought you could proceed the investigation with a clearer head.” he said. Leia scoffed. Bodhi knew Cassian should be more scared.

Leia straightened up and jutted out her chin.

“Listen here,” oh dear, she was angry. Bodhi recognised how her voice rose an octave, betraying her private school training. “I don’t need you or Jyn babysitting me. I can handle my personal and professional affairs without any intervention. And when I see DCI Erso I will inform her the same, but since you insist this ridiculous plan was her idea, I shall use more explicit words.”

She turned her back on Cassian and leaned on the adjoining desk. Bodhi recoiled.

“By the way, your new boyfriend is my twin brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if anyone's ever seen one of those houseboats tethered to rivers but the second I thought about incorporating Luke I knew where he should live.  
> (Also sorry if you came here for pure rebelcaptain but this is more of an r1 ensemble fic with strong rebelcaptain overtones.)  
> Follow me on [tumblr](http://politicalprocrastinator.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> I've worked out the major storyline, and it's going to get much darker. There's much more death and drama to come, don't worry. I'm on [tumblr](http://politicalprocrastinator.tumblr.com)


End file.
